


Brotherhood

by dovingbird



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heejun's been eliminated, and Phil's trying to hold it together. Rated for brief moment of language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brotherhood

**Author's Note:**

> Response to requested Tumblr prompt: "Heejun is leaving the show and Phil is devestated. Angst between the two, little fluff thrown in at the end? Either that or them being adorable in general."

"Can you quit that? It's making me sick."  
  
Heejun was folding the last of his clothes and shoving them into his suitcase, his mournful face drawn into a frown. He wasn't looking at Phil, and that, above everything else, had Phil wanting to cry. It was like it was already over, this friendship of theirs, instead of just beginning.  
  
"It's not gonna pack itself," Heejun muttered. He reached to nudge his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and that was long enough for Phil to reach over and snatch one of his remaining sweaters. He balled it up and stuffed it under his head like a pillow, shooting Heejun a challenging glare. Heejun sighed. "C'mon, man."  
  
"Come get it yourself." Phil knew he was acting childishly, even for the two of them, but he couldn't help it. This was bullshit. They'd been doing this for how long now? Been keeping each other company through the stress? Been roommates? Been tied to each other's hips? And now it was supposed to just be...over?  
  
Heejun crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't in the mood to play anymore, that much was clear, but even his watery eyes didn't make Phil give in. Finally Heejun threw his arms in the air and shook his head. "Fine. You want a present? Keep it. Whatever. That's fine."  
  
It wasn't so fun when you got your way, Phil decided. He looked at the sweater and frowned.  
  
"But when they start calling you a homo, man-"  
  
"Shut up." He jerked his hand out, sweater in tow, with a huff. "Just take it."  
  
He did take it. But carefully and slowly, like he didn't wanna give up his side either. Finally he huffed a heavy sigh and started to fold it.  
  
Phil sat up on his bed and crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. "This is bullshit."  
  
"No it isn't." Heejun shook his head and tucked the sweater into his suitcase, being oddly persnickety with the placement. "I can't stand up there with the rest of you and pretend I'm gonna be the next American Idol or whatever. We all knew this day was coming."  
  
And that made Phil angry. Because deep down within himself, beneath the love and loyalty he had for the man standing there, he knew it was true. He jerked his head away and stared at the wall, feeling his eyes begin to burn with tears.  
  
"Anyway, you're gonna go on and win this thing." Heejun slowly zipped up his suitcase, eating up every precious second of time that he could. "And you're gonna go and become super famous and meet all these cool people and forget all about little Heejun Han."  
  
"Don't," Phil hissed through the tears trickling down his cheeks, "you _dare_ say I'll forget you, man." He was shaking. He couldn't stop. "'Cuz I'll never forget you. I don't care what anybody says."  
  
Heejun was silent.  
  
"One day Hannah and me're gonna get married. We're gonna have kids. We're gonna grow old and senile. And you're gonna be there every step of the way. I want you to be my groomsman. I want you to be Uncle Heejun. And one day, I don't care what it takes, we're all gonna end up in the same old folk's home, and you and me're gonna drive our automatic wheelchairs around and chase the nurses and Hannah's gonna be the one that sits back there shaking her head and pretending she don't know us." He looked up at the quiet Asian man and snarled out his next words. "So fuck you if you think I'm gonna forget you. 'Cuz being on this show without you's gonna be the hardest thing I've ever done in my damn life."  
  
Heejun was crying now, too, in that way that only Phil felt like he'd seen. His face screwed up, ugly and blotched, and tears were coursing down his face. Ever since Phil'd first seen those tears, that face, back when Heejun had thrown himself at Phil in sheer relief about continuing on in the competition, Phil had known their fate: they were brothers. They'd be brothers for the rest of their lives.  
  
Phil came to his feet and the two collapsed against each other, sobbing like little babies who'd lost their rattles. He clung to Heejun's hoodie and felt Heejun bury his damp face in his neck.  
  
"It's just for a few weeks," Phil murmured through his tears. "And then it'll be like none of this ever happened."  
  
Heejun nodded against him, sniffling loudly. "Yeah." He coughed out a wet laugh. "Can you even believe all the shit we'll get into on tour?"  
  
Now Phil was laughing too, the both of them tightening their holds and laughing their asses off. "Dude, you've gotta make plans for all the pranks and shit we're gonna pull. You're the genius at it, not me."  
  
"You know I will. But only...if you win this."  
  
"You know I'm gonna damn well try."  
  
"Don't try. Do." He grinned. "You're a Southern boy, so git 'er done."  
  
"I'm gonna kill you," Phil laughed.  
  
They separated, each wiping their tears away and blowing their noses in the nearby tissues from the nightstand. And then they just stood there and looked at each other.  
  
Heejun was the one that spoke this time. Careful, self-conscious Heejun. "You're my brother, man. I've never been so happy I met somebody."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
A knock sounded at the door. "Mr. Han?" One of the interns stuck his head in the door, eyes wide. "Your car is ready."  
  
Heejun nodded. "All right. Be out in a minute."  
  
The intern shut the door behind him, and the two fidgeted in the silence.  
  
Phil reached over and grabbed Heejun's suitcase, setting it on the ground and getting ready to roll it along. "Walk you to the car?"  
  
Heejun smiled. The two brothers headed out into the hallway together.


End file.
